10,000 Year War
by Shadow Of The Conscious
Summary: BSAA Agent Claire Redfield has been assigned to investigate suspicious activities in Western Russia, leading to the struggle for the truth against an enemy who will force her to confront everything she believes. Various cameos, please RR! Chapter 2 Up!
1. Backfire

My interpretation of a possible Resident Evil 6. There are lots of twists abound and lots of familiar characters we've all come to know and love that make an appearance. Enjoy!

All Capcom characters belong to Capcom.

* * *

_Why am I still doing this?_

_It seems like no matter how hard we try, bioterrorism continues to thrive and expand._

_Chris and I saw it coming, we knew that Wesker's fall wouldn't provide us with prosperity forever. No-one listened, and eventually everyone grew tired of the fight and simply moved on with their lives. _

_Not us, though._

_With the desire to follow my brother's footsteps, I joined the BSAA. Out of character for me, I know. I'm a rescuer, not a fighter, I know. I no longer felt like sitting in the sidelines when it came down to it. I needed to feel like I was doing my part._

_After the death of Wesker, things were generally quiet, but it didn't take long until reports trickled in of B.O.W.s being sold across various black market hotspots._

_Why, though?_

_There has to be someone behind it. Whether this was the work of an all-powerful individual or a shady organization ala Tricell, there had to be a reason why this sudden influx of bioweaponal transactions are occurring._

_I'll find out, sooner or later._

_BSAA has been sending out special agents of their own to investigate the hotspots. I've been selected to aid in the investigation of a hefty Russian black market area. I don't know what's going to happen to me. I may live through this, I may die through this. I guess it doesn't matter. I'm just a throwaway to them compared to my brother._

_If anybody reads this, just know that viral terrorism is very much alive. Don't fall to its temptation._

_-Claire Redfield

* * *

_

Snow blanketed the Russian land as nightfall began to paint its pretty colors.

A BSAA truck arrived at its destination, crossing through various checkpoints and managed to ease its way into the camp site.

Snow and slosh piled up against the wheels of the truck, almost trying to prevent it from crossing further. Nevertheless, its attempt was unsuccessful. Two people stepped out of the truck.

The person who came out first was the North American BSAA agent named Claire Redfield. She's most well known for her tales of surviving the horrors at Raccoon City and Rockfort Island, as well as her ties to agent Chris Redfield. She was sent by the branch to investigate suspicious events in western Russia.

Claire shivered in her brown leather coat as the temperature steadily dropped. Winter was not a kind season to the younger Redfield. Time, however, had been friendlier to her. Now 34 years old, she didn't feel much different when she was 19 years old. She couldn't imagine why, all the years of stress she had to put up with should have made her look more baggy and decrepit than she actually did. She felt lucky.

The second person, named Jake McKowski, was another agent of BSAA. However, he was from the European headquarters. He was also a good friend of Claire's; she met him long ago when Chris took her up to Europe in 2000. Ever since then, they have stayed in relative contact, and Claire would always visit him whenever she made trips up to Europe. Claire was pleased to learn that he was assigned to the case, as she always preferred to work with people she knows than complete strangers. It made the ride from the airport a hell of a lot less awkward, that's for sure.

A beefier looking man approached the couple. He looked like he was in his mid-40's, and sported a good old cliché handlebar mustache. "Agent Redfield," He greeted her, "I'm glad to see you made it in one piece."

"So am I," Claire responded. The older looking man extended his hand.

"I'm Lieutenant Doc Ravid," he said, "I'm in charge of this operation. It's good to see that they sent a Redfield out here to get the job done."

Claire smiled warmly, but inside she could feel her eyeballs roll to the back of her head. _'We're not superheroes,' _she thought, _'Christ, we're just normal people, give it a break.'_

But she knew that after Wesker had died, everything changed. Soon the elder Redfield achieved more publicity than a drunken Hollywood starlet, interviews and awards and all. His reputation helped Claire out, though, but she felt like it was cheating.

She still loved that teddy bear on steroids, though. He was her big brother, after all.

Doc led them into the camp site, where a large tent was set up among dozens of tinier, insignificant looking tents. Computers and a huge table with a map of Russia greeted them as the three of them walked in to the room. There were other soldiers going about their business; some were on the computers, and others were walking around for whatever their reasons for walking around were.

"So, here is what we know right now," Doc began as he began tracing his fingers around the map. "The black market hotspot is said to be located within the city of St. Petersburg." Doc pointed to the specific dot which was labeled ST. PETERSBURG. "But we've noticed that recently their deals have extended beyond this area and there were recorded transactions located in villages outside the city."

Claire thought back to the story of Leon's and Krauser's struggle in South America, how this drug lord named Javier Hidalgo was smuggling B.O.W.s through the black market, going as far as even testing them on nearby villages. The thought of terrorizing innocent people for profitable gain made her wretch.

"Out of all these villages, it seems that most of the transactions occur…here." Doc pointed to a small area labeled PETZILGRAD. "A village called Petzilgrad. It's a fairly isolate village; the perfect spot to sell B.O.W.s without drawing any unwanted attention."

Doc turned away from the map and faced Claire and Jake. "We don't know who or what is responsible for these sudden occurrences, but we're going to snuff them out. We're going to investigate the village and find out any clues. Once we gather what we need, we'll take a route behind the village, cross over to St. Petersburg, and take the bastard down."

"Sounds simple enough," Claire said. Another man walked into their conversation. He sported long, black hair, and a face that felt less like someone who belonged in the army and more like a rapist. "Sir, you should take a look at this," he said, clutching a piece of paper.

"We just got word that there is a transaction about to take place in Petzilgrad," said the man, whose name tag read: LOGAN SVENSSON.

In a loud, booming voice, the lieutenant yelled, "Alright men! Let's rack 'em and stack 'em! We're leaving for the village in five minutes!" Doc then turned to Logan and told him, "I want you and the others to stay here and guard the site. This shouldn't take long."

Logan nodded, "Yes sir."

"Looks like this is gonna get interesting," Jake said. He smirked at Claire, which she picked up on, "Heh, don't get too cocky yet."

There was something about that one man that bothered Claire, though.

* * *

The village, sans the footsteps of Claire, Jake, Doc and five other soldiers, was eerily quiet.

Claire could feel her teeth chatter as her boots cracked through the snow. How she hated the cold with a fiery passion, to put it appropriately. What was strange, though, was that the village seemed so empty. There was hardly any trace of any B.O.W. deals going down here, and if there was, then they must have left long ago. Her Redfield intuition began to question the validation of that report.

They all stopped when they heard a sharp sound. It sounded like a tree branch that snapped in half. Flashlights searched the area, finding their way to a lone man.

He moaned as he stumbled his way forward, appearing as if he was injured.

One of the soldiers approached the man, asking him if he was alright, and needed any help. The man didn't respond, so the soldier moved on and asked him about any "suspicious looking persons."

While this mysterious looking person was being questioned, Claire couldn't shake off this rotten feeling in her stomach. It all felt too familiar, and then it became clear to her.

"Wait!" She was too late, though. The soldier was dead, holes where his eyes should be. A split second later, the person rushed towards the group, foaming at the mouth, eyes bulging with anger.

"Shoot it," Doc ordered, "Kill the motherfucker!" A swift barrage of machine gun bullets dropped the attacker like a bag of rocks.

"The hell just happened?!" One soldier cried out. Another soldier cried out, "Shit man! Travis!" Claire deduced that the now deceased soldier must have been his friend.

Then they heard some growling.

"Shit, what was that?" Jake asked.

Suddenly, a dozen, more like a mob, of villagers emerged from the darkness. They grumbled and growled like hungry beasts, some carrying pitchforks, axes and other types of farm tools used as weaponry.

And as they rushed towards the group of frightened humans, the madness began turning its gears.

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	2. Loss

All Capcom characters belong to Capcom.

* * *

Gunshots signaled a return to the horrors Claire faced in the past. To her horror, the men around her were getting slaughtered.

Bloodthirsty roars and foreign dialect filled the air as the team hopelessly tried to stabilize the situation.

"Don't hold back," Doc commanded, "Give 'em everything you got!"

Bullets peppered the maddened villagers, dropping them to the ground. But there were still too many, and they absorbed the bullets better than any other human being could. They seemed invincible, but Claire remembered the one weakness that all monstrosities she had ever encountered had.

"Shoot them in the head!"

One soldier jerked his head, yelling amidst the chaos, "What?" Those were his last words, as his gut was soon skewered with a pitchfork.

Whatever of the 8-person unit remained began blasting the hostile locals in the cranium, causing them to drop a lot faster. Soon enough, the villagers retreated, as they lost many of their forces. They grumbled and growled as they stormed off. Once the town was cleared of all the insanity, there were all but three people left; Claire, Jake, and Doc. Fearing any more attacks on them, they decided to flee back to the camp site.

"We need to head back to the base; it's not safe here," Claire said. Doc gazed at the horrific site, shocked and saddened for the death of his comrades. "Agreed, we're sitting ducks here, let's go."

In a perfect, happy world, the heroes would find themselves back at the base, with soldiers pumped and ready to go. In fact, there would even be rejoicing as the rest of the BSAA arrived, apprehended the criminal, and they all went home. Sadly, this was not a perfect world; there were no additional reinforcements and the entire base before them lied in ruins, everyone seemingly dead.

"Oh shit," Jake muttered, "what happened here?"

"Somebody must have attacked while we were away," Doc said, anger evident in his voice, "Bastards probably set themselves up as a diversion."

As the three of them explored the destruction before them, Claire noticed that a blood-caked, heavily wounded soldier was limping across a stack of crates. "Hey," Claire shouted, "Over here!"

Doc rushed over to the wounded soldier, Claire and Jake in tow. The captain of the team knelt down in front of the wounded soldier, hoping to get some answers. "What happened here, soldier?"

"Some…somebody ambushed us. T-they came from the trees," The soldier struggled to speak, "I-it all h-happened so fast."

"Were there any survivors?"

"Y-yeah…L-Logan…was able…to escape."

That last sentence caught Claire's attention.

"Everyone else…i-is dead," the soldier said, he began to whimper in pain.

"Stay with me, soldier!" But it was of no use, the soldier had just passed away. His eyes were glazed over, and his face leaving no traces of life.

"Damn," Doc swore. He pulled a radio out from the side holder and held it against his face. "Nigel, come in. This is Lt. Ravid." A gravelly voice with a slight British accent appeared amongst the static, "This is Nigel, what's the status of the mission so far, lieutenant?"

Doc sighed, "We received a report of an imminent B.O.W. deal taking place in the village. We arrived there shortly after to bust the deal. We were ambushed by hostile locals; their behavior was similar to those locals in Kijuju and Spain. We were able to drive them back but not without casualties; Alpha Team is down for the most part. I'm the only one left alive of the group. I'm currently with special agents Redfield and McKowski. Requesting a mission update."

"Roger that," Nigel responded, "But the mission still stands. We can't afford to back out while B.O.W.s are afoot."

Doc was shaken by disbelief, "There's only three of us left!"

"We're sending Omega Team to help you out," Nigel said, "They will rendezvous with you in the city. I'll send you the coordinates. Over and out." The static ceased.

Doc holstered his radio and faced the other two people still alive, "They're sending out Omega Team, and they'll be meeting us in the city."

"St. Petersburg?" Jake asked, he seemed surprised.

"Correct," Doc answered, "There's a path we can take to get to the city. A forest lies right beyond the gates of the village. We can get to the city through there."

Doc inserted a fresh clip into his handgun and loaded the chamber, "You two go on ahead. I'm going to stay here and retrieve the coordinates."

As Claire and Jake departed for the village, Doc stopped them briefly, "Hold up. Logan is still out there somewhere. If you do, contact me and give me the status on his condition. I'd rather not have any more dead soldiers."

"Right," Claire said. And with that, they departed for the village.

* * *

It wasn't long until the snow covered path led them back to the village. As they reached within eyesight of the village, they noticed that there were definitely villagers inhabiting the place, but strangely docile. They took cover behind a bunch of trees and observed them. Instead of roaring inhumanely and thrashing their weapons around, they were performing everyday activities. They were shoveling snow, taking down icicles from their roofs, and cleaning their tools and supplies.

"What the hell?" Claire muttered oh so quietly.

The duo also noticed that the villagers started a fire to keep them heated. But it wasn't just firewood that was keeping the flame going.

"Is that…Is that _Alpha Team_?!" Jake whispered in a loud manner.

"Keep your voice down!" Claire chided, but their voices caught the attention of the villagers.

"Shit, shit!" Claire cursed.

"Zahvatchik!" One villager cried out. "Ubitʹ ih!" Another villager cried out.

"What do we do?" Jake asked, and after many years of enduring this kind of predicament, Claire knew the proper response, "Stand our ground!"

The townsfolk rushed like madmen, eager to get their pieces of meat. They began firing at the villagers; aiming for their head in order to kill them faster and conserve ammo. It helped to reduce their numbers, but their constant thrashing and throwing of objects made it harder to deplete their numbers, not to mention the fact that there were so many of them. Things were beginning to get desperate.

"I'm running out of ammo," Claire said, "We gotta find shelter!"

"Over here!" A voice called out. Claire and Jake turned their heads a brief second to see a normal looking man beckoning them to come inside. They had no choice; it was do or die. They made a beeline for the house.

"In here, now!" The man called out once more, and once Claire and Jake were inside, the man slammed the door shut with all of his force. "We have to barricade the door," he told them, "Help me move that bookshelf in front of this door." Jake complied and helped the mysterious man push the bookcase in front of the door, blocking the villagers from gaining access. Claire noticed that, despite his exceptional grasp in English, his voice definitely carried a Russian accent.

They took a second to catch their breath. They noticed that the man was looking angrily at them. "What the hell were you two doing out there?! Don't you know this village is _cursed_?!"

"We know that," Claire responded.

The man sighed, "Americans with their '_bravery_'." Soon, his anger loosened up, allowing himself to be expositional. "My name is Nicholai, by the way."

"I'm Jake McKowski, and this is Claire Redfield."

Nicholai's eyes perked up, "Redfield? As in, the man named Redfield that brought Umbrella down almost 10 years ago?"

"You must be talking about Chris," Claire said, "He's my brother."

"Ah, I remember that day. I was a younger man, but I couldn't help but feel the excitement as the news spread of your brother taking down the Umbrella facility two hundred miles from here!"

"Well," Claire sighed, "He is quite the hero. I'd love to chat more about him, but we're trying to get access to the city. We were told that there was a path ahead of the village we could take to get to the city. Do you know which direction we should go?"

"Actually," Nicholai began, "There's a gate at the end of the village, straight ahead from the main square. I know of a mansion beyond there with an underground path that will lead you to the city safely."

"Alright," Jake noted, "We appreciate your help."

"One more thing," Nicholai added, "Be careful of this one man; I've seen him do deals around here, exchanging weird looking things," Nicholai's next words felt angry, "He's the whole reason this village has gone to hell, I'm sure he wouldn't hesitate to kill you if he sees you!"

"Do you know what he looks like?" Claire asked.

"Not really, no," Nicholai said, "He has long, black hair, and that's about it. But I do hear his customers speak his name, the name of Lo--"

A chainsaw had burst through the wall, cutting right through Nicholai. He screamed out in terrible pain and agony, as the blades cut through his flesh.

Claire and Jake could only watch in horror as the chainsaw slowly made it up through his body, slicing his body in half from the gut up. Nicholai fell to the floor ungracefully, looking like a split fish.

The chainsaw tore through the wall, creating a big enough opening for a hulking monstrosity to step through, revving his chainsaw as he advanced towards Claire and Jake.

* * *

Zahvatchik = Intruder

Ubit' Ih! = Kill Them!

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